


of the heart and lungs

by ornategrip



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ornategrip/pseuds/ornategrip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shane steals Rick's shirt because he can't have Rick and when Rick catches him at it, all it leads to is heartbreak for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of the heart and lungs

**Author's Note:**

> For [this](http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/2684.html?thread=2716284#t2716284) prompt on the TWD kink meme.

It was easier, back before the world went to hell.

He and Rick would go to the gym together and if one of Rick's shirts happened to end up in Shane's duffle bag? Well, these things happen. Shane would get it back to him eventually, toss it at his face as he got in the car.

"Here's your damn shirt." he'd say, laughing. "Swear, you leave it just so I have to do your damn laundry."

And Rick would just grin at him, toss the shirt into his own bag and never question it.

Now, though, swiping shirts was a production. Too many prying eyes, too many bodies too close for comfort. Shane had to learn the laundry schedule, plan it out in advance. Too far from laundry day, Rick might notice the missing shirt, wasn’t like they had full wardrobes anymore. Too close to laundry day and Shane might miss it, might not be able to slip it back in with the dirty.

Hard to explain that.

Still, he thought, worth it. The shirt dangled from his fingers as he stood in his tent, ears straining to make sure he was alone. It was best to do this quick as possible, if he had to hide Rick’s shirt amongst his own things, the smell wouldn’t be the same.

He shucked his own clothes off, kicking his boots off his feet and stretching out on his sleeping bag. It was fucking hot, sweltering Georgia summer just as cruel as it always had been. He was already sweating and when he ran his free hand down his belly, his skin was slick. His other hand still held the shirt, clenched in his hand like all the treasure in China.

He held it to his nose, took some of it into his mouth. Smelled and tasted like dirt mostly, but under that was pure Rick. Shane knew that smell, that taste, had smelled and tasted it often enough. _Rick._ He had to shut his eyes at the jolt of pleasure, dick stirring without being touched. His dick knew the score, knew how this game was played.

He rubbed the shirt over his face, only once, only to get the feel of it. Didn’t want his own smell to cover Rick’s but had to have the thought of it on his skin, marking him. Then he just held it over his mouth and nose, breathed in deep as he reached down to stroke his cock.

This, he knew this. This was his form of meditation, his benediction, taking Rick deep the only way he could. The man’s smell filling his senses. He groaned into the fabric, letting it muffle his sounds, getting it wet with his saliva. He worked himself quickly and efficiently, gone were the days when he could take his time, spin as many fantasies as he could manage.

He was on borrowed time, always was but now more than ever. So he just breathed in and fisted his cock, stripped as much pleasure as he could with every stroke. He was close, hips beginning to jerk up and off the ground and he gritted his teeth against the groans that wanted to escape.

A sudden rustle of his tent made him jerk the shirt away from his face, snarl on his lips to whoever was in his tent to _get the fuck out._

Rick.

Rick staring with big, wide eyes, mouth open a little. Wet a little, like he had just licked his lips. Shane stared up at him and he knew he should stop, try to explain but his hand kept moving, kept stroking his dick and he didn’t say a word.

Rick fell to his knees, his eyes burning into Shane’s and Shane could see the lust, the pure wild want in them. Could feel Rick’s desire like a physical thing, pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breath. So Shane breathed harder, didn’t attempt to get away from that pressure because it was Rick and even if it killed him, he welcomed it.

He fucked his fist, arched his body, showed it to Rick, let Rick _see_ him.

Yours, he didn’t say but Rick heard all the same. Rick who whimpered when Shane whimpered, moaned when Shane moaned, who twitched every time Shane’s body jerked in absolute pleasure. They panted together, breathed in the same air as Shane’s hands worked his body, as his dick got harder and slicker, precome making wet, wet noises as his fist moved up and down.

He came with Rick’s eyes on him, kept his own eyes open through sheer willpower. He wanted to see Rick, wanted to know how Rick took it, Shane coming apart under his gaze. Rick looked awestruck, like a man who had never seen the sun watching it rise for the first time. Like Shane was the most perfect thing in existence.

Shane had to shut his eyes then, had to look away from that look because Shane and Rick? Were a lot of thing but perfect wasn’t one of them. At least not perfect in this, dirty lust and ambient pleasure. Shane and Rick were buddies, best friends, brothers. Never lovers.

Rick made a soft noise and Shane had to open his eyes, had to look at the man he had fallen in love with when they were both boys and who he couldn’t give up on, no matter how much it poisoned him.

Rick reached out with one shaking hand, coming so close to touching him that Shane could feel the heat of his fingers. Then he dropped his arm, taking that warmth with him, leaving Shane shivering in the cold that followed.

“I can’t.” Rick’s voice, on the edge of just shattering. “I’m _married_.”

Wealth of emotion in that word. Shock, guilt, shame. Bewilderment, like Rick had no idea how that came to be, Rick married to Lori while wanting Shane.

“I know, brother. I know.” Shane said softly, because he did know. He’d known for years, since the first time he caught Rick staring at him with want in his eyes. Since the first time Rick had turned away and ran when Shane stared back.

Rick had been running ever since, but he’d never run so far as he did the day he married Lori. Shane had been best man, watching with something like relief and regret running through him, thinking that Rick had finally run far enough that Shane wouldn’t give chase. That Shane could finally give up that pipe dream of being fast enough, good enough, to catch Rick Grimes.

He’d been wrong, of course.

Two months after they got married, Shane had swiped a shirt and fingerfucked himself in his bed while wearing it. Breathing in deep, cotton pulling at his shoulders, Rick’s face etched in his mind’s eye. The wrinkles he got when smiling, the quirk of his mouth when amused, the pull of his eyebrows when angry.

Now, he looked at that face, took in the sheer desolation, the dawning knowledge. Rick had been lying to himself for years and figured it would take the end of the world to break through his self-denial. Rick had always been a stubborn son of a bitch.

Shane had had years to deal with the heartbreak. He slowly reached down, snagged the blanket and covered his nakedness from Rick’s eyes.

“You should go.” he said, gently as he could and with Rick, that meant as gently as he possibly could. Rick brought out the gentleness in Shane, same way he brought out the violence; both in equal measure and perhaps as deep as both those things ran in Shane. Rick always managed to reach deep down into Shane, to scrape his nails against Shane’s very bones.

Rick shut his eyes, breathed in deep and Shane prayed he wouldn’t speak, prayed to a god he no longer believed existed. That non-existent god obeyed because Rick just nodded, climbed to his feet and left the tent, quiet as he came.

Shane didn’t weep. There was nothing left in him to weep.

 

Two days later, when Shane stepped into his tent, he found one of Rick's shirts, folded on his sleeping bag, careful as you please.


End file.
